


What Happens in Nightmare Time

by memories-are-mine (memoriesaremine), memoriesaremine



Category: Hatchetfield Universe - Team StarKid, Nightmare Time - Team StarKid, StarKid Productions RPF
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Autistic Hannah Foster, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Duke is a Simp, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Fuck you pamela, Gen, Hannah Foster is allowed to punch me, Hurt Ethan, Hurt Lex, Kidnapping, Nightmares, Rescue Missions, So is miss holloway we just don't discuss it, Spoilers, im sorry Hannah
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:02:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27497641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memoriesaremine/pseuds/memories-are-mine, https://archiveofourown.org/users/memoriesaremine/pseuds/memoriesaremine
Summary: THIS HAS MAJOR NIGHTMARE TIME EPISODE 3 SPOILERS!!!Everyone says Lex Foster and Ethan Green were picked up selling her mother's painkillers one Saturday night. Everyone says that's why they haven't been home in weeks, they're in jail awaiting trial.Hannah Foster knows better than that. She knows what really happened to them. The nightmares told her that much. She knows that Lex and Ethan aren't in some minimum security prison ten miles from Hatchetfield. They're in Nightmare Time, and they'll die there if Hannah doesn't help them.With the help of a social worker with a heart of gold, a rather odd woman with untold powers, a mysterious little girl, and her trusty ukulele, Hannah will save her family. Either that, or she'll die trying. There are no other options.Along the way, Hannah will see what happens in Nightmare Time, and if she has the strength to survive it.
Relationships: Douglas "Duke" Keane & Hannah Foster, Douglas "Duke" Keane/Miss Holloway, Hannah Foster & Ethan Green, Hannah Foster & Lex Foster, Hannah Foster & Original Female Character(s), Hannah Foster & Pamela Foster, Hannah Foster & Webby, Lex Foster/Ethan Green, Miss Holloway & Hannah Foster
Comments: 35
Kudos: 36





	1. The Cabin Deep in Your Mind

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who's back with another spunky longfic!! It's ya girl liv! 
> 
> This concept was born through a conversation with my good friends, my unending love for Duke Keane and Ms. Holloway, and some purely from my strange, twisted mind. I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> Just in case you didn't see the tags, this will contain Nightmare Time spoilers, specifically for Episode 3, so just know that if you haven't watched it yet. If you wanna wait to read this until after you do, I totally understand! 
> 
> Okay, that's it! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and are ready for this pretty epic journey

Hannah Foster knew the dreams would come for her. She’d been having them every night for weeks now. Ever since Ethan and Lex had disappeared. She would play her ukulele all night long, singing the songs Webby had taught her. When she played the songs that Webby had shown her, she liked to imagine that Lex and Ethan could hear her from far away, that it brought them some comfort in the darkness. 

But when her mother would barge in and snap at her to stop playing, or take it away so Hannah couldn’t play anymore, then the nightmares would come crashing in, forcing her to watch the horrible scenes of the witch over and over and over again. Force her to watch Lex and Ethan suffer with no knowledge of how to save them. 

Tonight was no exception. 

_ Hannah stood outside the ramshackle witch’s hut deep within her own mind. The wind whipped her hair and bit at her thin pajamas, and lightning whipped through the sky overhead, thunder crackling too loudly.  _

_ Hannah hugged her favorite stuffed animal as she stood there, with no ukulele to comfort her. It was a little stuffed cat that Ethan had won for her at Pizza Pete’s. She’d named it Chip, because Ethan had accidentally torn its ear when he was ripping the tag out for her, so it reminded her of Chip the cup from Beauty and the Beast. Usually, it made her nightmares easier. Now, though, it just made her sad.  _

_ She knew better than to call to Webby. Webby was trapped, just like Lex and Ethan. Webby couldn’t help her here.  _

_ Hannah just steeled her nerves and walked forward, into the cabin once again, to see what horrors awaited her only family.  _

_ The wind continued to howl within the cabin, as if it had a weather system all its own. Hannah knew that the wind and awful weather came from the witch. All of it, all of the bad things in Nightmare Time were  _ her _ fault.  _

_ Hannah recoiled at the sight of the witch looming over Lex and Ethan. A misshapen thing with a spine bent out of shape, scraping the low ceiling of the hut. Haggard, gray features with skin half-burned away. A nightmarish shadow of the woman she was, that reflected the monster she’d become. True, her form could change sometimes, but behind the thin veil of disguise, the monster always lurked.  _

_ She was in her true form now, leering down at them. Lex and Ethan were huddled in a corner, Ethan positioned in front of Lex protectively, shielding her from the witch. Lex was behind him, watching the scene play out with wide eyes.  _

_ “You just had to try to run away again, didn’t you,” the witch chided, her forked tongue running over her teeth like a snake. “I keep trying to tell you there’s nowhere to go.”  _

_ “We-we’re not gonna let you hurt Hannah!” Ethan snapped. He was trying to be brave, to put on a show of strength. The slight tremor in his voice gave him away even as he stood defiantly. “No matter what you try to do!”  _

_ “Oh, isn’t he  _ brave _ ,” the witch snickered. She nonchalantly flicked her hand and Ethan flew backward, slamming into the wall six inches above the ground. His head made a sickening cracking noise as it hit the wall, and Hannah involuntarily flinched, clutching the stuffed cat tightly. There was nothing she wanted more than to run to Lex and Ethan, protect them from the witch, but her feet were stuck in place. Ethan moaned softly in pain as Lex tried in vain to get off the floor and run to him, but the wind was keeping her in place.  _

_ The witch stalked over to Ethan, still pinned to the wall with magic. He shirked away from her, but there was only so far he could go. The witch smiled and ran a bony finger down his cheek. Ethan cringed.  _

_ “Leave him alone!” Lex cried.  _

_ “I think once the little brat’s dead, I’ll have some fun with you before I end you too,” the witch purred. “It’d be a pity to break a new plaything so quickly.”  _

_ “Fuck you,” Ethan managed to spit out.  _

_ The witch rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers, dropping Ethan to the floor. The witch began to hobble away on her mismatched legs, but then abruptly stopped in front of Lex, who looked away from Ethan to meet her eyes.  _

_ A smile spread over the witch’s face as she took in Lex, as if she were a very interesting science experiment she couldn’t wait to blow to smithereens. Slowly, deliberately, she turned right towards where Hannah stood and gave her a wink. Hannah shrank back, lowering her head and clutching Chip even more tightly. The witch turned back to her prisoners.  _

_ “You’re  _ very  _ lucky I still need you alive for a little bit longer. But…” The witch pointed first at Lex, then at Ethan. “Don’t try escaping again, either of you,” she warned. “You’ll regret it.”  _

_ She waved her hand, and suddenly she was gone, leaving Ethan and Lex alone in the ramshackle cottage. The wind died down, leaving the cottage deathly silent.  _

_ Immediately, Lex began to tremble. She seemed to lose control of her motion as she tried to move towards Ethan. Ethan sat up, holding the back of his head.  _

_ “Lex?” He asked softly. He crawled over to Lex, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly.  _

_ “E-Ethan,” Lex managed to stammer out his name. “I-I…”  _

_ “I-It’s gonna be okay,” Ethan said. His voice still held the same tremor as it had when he was facing the witch. “H-hey, hey, It’ll be okay. I’m right here.” He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head as she buried her face in his chest. “Lexie, you’re shaking, baby. You’re shaking...”  _

Hannah screamed out as she woke up. The pent up emotion that had built in her chest during the nightmare coming out in one wall of sound. All it did was rattle the pictures on the wall. 

Hannah clutched Chip close, whimpering as she buried her face in the cat’s soft fur. The cat held a lot of Hannah’s tears and worst memories. That was what Ethan told her it was for, to keep her memories safe and protect her from the nightmares. 

“Nanners!” Hannah’s mother, Pamela’s, snappy voice came from what passed for the living room of their tiny house. “Pipe down and get on out here!” 

Hannah hesitated by the door, looking at the spot where her ukulele used to be in the corner. She didn’t know where Lex and Ethan were or what had happened to them, but she did know that they were in danger. But she didn’t know how to help them. She was all alone, and even  _ Webby _ couldn’t help her. 

How do you save the people you love when you’re a lonely little fourteen-year-old girl who no one believes? 


	2. Maybe Duke?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah hopes Duke will be able to help with her conundrum as she tries to push Lex, Ethan and Webby to the back of her mind. All she gets in return is a ukulele that isn't hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs: Child Abuse, what could be considered ableist language, descriptions of a panic attack 
> 
> I'm gonna put specific tws at the beginning of all of my chapters, please let me know if there's anything that you think I should add to the list and I will!! 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!!

“Nanners!” Hannah winced at her mother’s snappy tone. She was used to it by now, of course, but Hannah always felt better about dealing with her when Lex was around. She missed Lex yelling at their mother to not talk to Hannah like that. Of course, it didn’t usually end well for Lex, and Hannah didn’t like it when Lex got in trouble for her, but she missed Lex. She missed Lex a lot. 

“Yeah?” Hannah looked up from the kitchen floor. She’d been staring at the same tile for the last five minutes as the events of her dream played over and over in her mind. She didn’t dare close her eyes, hated to even  _ blink _ , lest she see the witch, or Webby, or Lex and Ethan, terrified and huddled against the wall. 

“Bring me one’a them beers from the fridge,” Pamela said, as the  _ Hatchetfield Daily News  _ blared on TV. 

Hannah rubbed her eyes as she shuffled over to the refrigerator and pulled out the sixpack. She handed one to her mother, who opened it and took a long sip. Hannah surreptitiously began to look around for where her mother might have hidden the ukulele. If her mother saw her, she was a dead girl. The trailer didn’t exactly have a lot of hiding places, so Hannah began to slip toward the cabinets, careful not to make noise. She wasn’t even sure her mother could hear her over the noise. 

“Nanners!” The shout caused Hannah to whirl around. She moved away from the cabinets and put her hands behind her back, staring down at the floor. After a moment, she glanced up again. Her mother wasn’t even looking at her. She never really did, unless Hannah was doing something wrong. 

“Yeah?” Hannah replied, wringing her hands. 

“I want some alone time with my man, get on outta here and go play outside.” 

Hannah sighed. “With what?” She was hoping that her mom would slip her ukulele back, at least give her  _ something  _ to help, but Pamela just shrugged. 

“I don’t know, go find some dog turds or something,” she said, waving Hannah off. “Or, here.” She took a beer from the sixpack and chucked it at Hannah, who barely caught it in her surprise. “Knock yourself out.” 

Hannah didn’t argue. Arguing with her mother was pointless. In fact, it would just make things worse. She sighed in resignation before slipping past her mother and out of the trailer, sitting down hard on the steps. 

The weather was so beautiful that it almost seemed like it was laughing at her. It was October, but the temperature felt like summer, with the sun beating down on Hannah’s head, making her flannel feel too warm. The sky was a brilliant blue. Not a cloud in sight. It was picture-perfect. 

Days like this were Ethan’s favorite. He loved sunny days. On days like this he’d pick up the girls in his old jalopy and take them out to the edge of the island. They’d walk along the shoreline, trails and clearings that nobody really went to. They’d pack whatever food they could afford, if any at all, and have picnics under the sun. Hannah would play her ukulele while Ethan and Lex listened to her while they smoked cigarettes, encouraging her, even though Hannah knew they thought the songs were a little strange. Sometimes Ethan would make up little songs about California for their amusement, singing to Hannah’s random strumming. They’d stay from sunup to sundown, the summer air allowing them to pretend everything was okay. Just for a little while. 

Of course, that couldn’t happen today. It couldn’t happen while Lex and Ethan were gone. 

Hannah sighed and looked down at the beer can in her hand. Lex liked beer. She said it helped her forget things sometimes, and that it was nice to forget things sometimes. Hannah was alone. No one was around to see her, and forgetting things sure sounded pretty nice right now. 

Hannah opened the can and took a sip. Immediately, she gagged, spilling half of the contents on her shoes in her haste to get rid of the horrible taste. “Ugh.” 

If forgetting tasted like this, Hannah wasn’t quite sure she wanted to forget. And besides, Webby had told her to remember. 

Hannah stopped short.  _ Webby _ . In her haze of feeling sorry for herself, she’d completely let go of the one thing Webby had told her before she disappeared:  _ Don’t forget _ . She had to keep that promise. 

Hannah’s lower lip began to tremble as she desperately tried to regain control of her emotions. She couldn’t cry. Her mother might hear it if she cried. She was  _ not _ going to cry. She wasn’t going to let herself get caught up, again, in the whirlwind of thoughts of what had happened to Webby, of what had happened to Lex and Ethan, and how she was alone, facing not just the impossible task of figuring out this mess, but Pamela Foster, Hatchetfield, and the world without anyone who loved her. She wasn’t sure which one was scarier. 

Hannah hadn’t even realized she’d risen from the steps and walked towards the Witchwood Forest, right near their trailer. Most of the town was terrified of the place. They whispered things about secret portals, horrifying creatures, disappearances in the dead of night. To Hannah, the woods were comforting. Sure, they reminded her of the woods in her dreams, but of the nicer ones. The ones where Webby would bring her to tell her stories and teach her soft lullabies that she could fill her ears with when the witch’s voice overwhelmed her. Woods she hadn’t seen in her mind in weeks. 

“I’m sorry, Webby,” Hannah said softly. The Witchwood helped her feel closer to Webby, somehow. Like if she spoke to the swaying trees, they would listen. “I’m really sorry.” 

Hannah closed her eyes, and listened to the wind make its way through the branches. It was a nice sound, almost like whispers of something comforting. 

Hannah opened her eyes and tilted her head. The sound that the trees made didn’t quite sound like wind anymore, but like voices. Voices that were softly calling to her, trying to get her attention. 

Hannah turned to the tree nearest her. She wasn’t exactly sure how to start a conversation with a tree, but she’d give it her best shot. 

“Hello,” she said politely. “I’m Hannah. What’s your name?” 

The noise that the tree made in response took a second for Hannah to decipher. It was a name she hadn’t heard before, but a lovely one nonetheless. 

“That’s a pretty name,” Hannah said. “Do you, uh, do you have something to tell me?” 

Hannah leaned close, straining her ears, but was only able to catch a portion of the message. 

“What?” Hannah leaned closer. “Sorry. Can’t hold...who? Took….what?” 

The tree said something else. Something that began with the words  _ “they were destroyed.”  _ That didn’t sound good. Hannah swallowed hard as the tree began to repeat its message, listening more intently than she ever had before. Probably even more intently than she ever had to  _ Webby _ .

What she heard next was the sound of a car roaring up to the trailer. An old station wagon, to be exact. Hannah stomped her foot in frustration as a familiar man with black hair emerged from the driver’s seat. Duke Keane, her family’s social worker. 

Hannah liked Duke, she really, really did. He was one of the only ones in her life, definitely the only adult, who actually seemed to care about her and what she felt. He seemed to have her best interests at heart, and Hannah had missed him. She hadn’t seen him in a few weeks, ever since Lex disappeared. His timing now, though, was less than ideal. 

“What did you say?” Hannah hissed quickly to the tree. The tree, however, had gone absolutely silent. Even the wind seemed to die down when Duke rolled up. She gritted her teeth in frustration. 

“Hannah?” Duke called to her, sounding a bit concerned. 

Hannah took a deep breath and turned to face him. “Hiya, Duke.” 

“Heya, Darling!” Duke’s face broke out in a smile as he made his way over to Hannah. “I’ve been kinda busy with, you know, all of this, but I just thought I’d swing by and check…” He broke off, looking down at what Hannah was holding. “Whatcha got there?” 

In her distraction with talking to the tree, Hannah had completely forgotten about the can of beer in her hand, and the stuff she’d spilled on her shoes. Immediately, she noticed that her socks were now soaking wet, and cold. She realized Duke was looking for an answer, but she knew that he’d reprimanded Lex for having this stuff before, and Lex was older. Hannah was definitely not supposed to have this. 

She had no idea  _ what _ to say, so she just shrugged. 

“Where’d you get that?” Duke raised an eyebrow at her, and Hannah glanced back towards the trailer. 

“Momma.” 

Duke glanced in the direction that Hannah’s eyes went, then looked back to Hannah. “She inside?” 

Hannah gave the rehearsed response, the one that she was always to give whenever Duke came around. Her mother had made that very clear. “No.” 

“Did she tell you to say that?” 

“Yeah.” 

It wasn’t an unfamiliar script. They had variations on the same conversation every time Duke came and Hannah was outside. Duke sighed in resignation. 

“Let’s go have a word with her.” 

Pamela was very clearly less-than-pleased when she opened the door. She shot Hannah a poisoned glare before she gave Duke her best apologetic, seductive smile. Hannah tuned out the conversation, preferring instead to mull over the tidbits of information the tree had given her. It, per usual, involved a lot of exasperated sighs from Duke as he tried to explain the problems, and a lot of feeble attempts of sweet-talking from Pamela. 

“...Where’s her ukulele?” 

“What?” Pamela feigned innocence. 

“The instrument you took from her,” Duke said firmly, unamused, as always, by Pamela’s behavior. “She says you took it.” 

Hannah was immediately interested in the conversation again. She looked up at Duke, an idea slowly dawning on her. Maybe he could help her. Maybe Webby had told him. Maybe he wasn’t just a social worker, assigned to look after her by the government. Maybe he could help her save Lex and Ethan. He had a good heart. And he was patient with her stories of Webby and the Black and White. He had to know some way to help her. 

“Well,” Pamela said, sneering down at Hannah. “We have already established that she is a lying little  _ turd _ .” She turned and went into the kitchen, opening the cupboard. From it, she pulled Hannah’s ukulele, which, thank goodness, looked unharmed. “I was just...cleaning it for her.” 

Hannah breathed out a sigh of relief as she returned the instrument with a hiss of  _ tattle-tail  _ in Hannah’s ear. She didn’t care. Something was tugging at the back of her mind, something important, but Hannah was so relieved to have her instrument back that she ignored the thought for now. 

With that done, Duke turned back to Pamela. 

“Ms. Foster, I’m not just here to check on Hannah.” He lowered his voice a bit, probably so Hannah wouldn’t be able to hear, but she was only pretending not to listen now. That was one of the nicer things about not being a priority. Adults tended to forget you were in the room. “I’m also here to ask if the court has contacted you yet. About...the trial. Seeing as you’re Lex’s legal guardian.” 

“No, they fuckin’ haven’t,” Pamela snapped, rolling her eyes. “Nobody tells me anything. Not like you tell me when you’re showing up either.” 

Duke sighed. “I’ll contact them again. The jail where they’re being held hasn’t been returning my calls.” 

“That’s because Lex and Ethan aren’t there!” Hannah blurted out. 

“Hannah, what did we talk about?” Pamela said through gritted teeth, smiling up at Duke. “Don’t listen to her. As we have established, she is a little fucking crazy.” 

“Duke!” Hannah turned to him, desperately hoping he’d listen. “They-they’re trapped. They’re in trouble! You have to help me, please!” 

“Hannah,” Duke said gently. He knelt down so he could look Hannah in the eye. She didn’t meet his. “I know you’re worried, but Lex and Ethan are perfectly safe where they are, I promise. I’m doing everything I can for them.” 

“They’re not there,” Hannah repeated, softer this time. “T-they’re in Nightmare Time. Webby said that I could use this.” She held up her ukulele, before she looked at it more closely, and realized something. 

“This isn’t mine.” She looked between Duke and her mother. “Th-this isn’t mine!” 

“What are you talking about?” Pamela furrowed an eyebrow and sighed with frustration. Duke stood back up and raised an eyebrow at Hannah. “Yes, it is.” 

“It’s wrong.” The ukulele felt heavy and awkward in Hannah’s hands. It didn’t feel  _ right _ . It wasn’t her ukulele. The one that Lex had given her for her birthday two months back.

“No, it ain’t.” There was a familiar undertone in Pamela’s voice now, one of barely controlled rage that simmered just beneath the surface, held back only by Duke’s presence in the room. A few beers too many coupled with her nasty temper wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, but usually, Lex was around when her mother got like this. 

Duke looked between them before his eyes settled on Pamela. “Pamela, just give Hannah  _ her  _ ukulele back.” 

“You think I got money for two of these things!?” Pamela snapped at him. “She’s just being difficult. All day I gotta hear about ‘Nightmare’ this, and ‘Webby’ that and ‘Lexie and Ethan blah blah blah.’” She imitated a high-pitched, whiny child as she talked like Hannah. “On top of that, this thing keeps me up all night! She _won’t_ _stop_ _playing_.” Duke looked a little taken aback at her tone. Pamela was _never_ this way when Duke was around, and Hannah was scared of how he’d react. Pamela seemed to realize she’d lost her temper, and then her charming fake smile returned to her face. “How am I supposed to get my beauty sleep?” 

Duke blinked once, twice, before he took a deep breath and turned to Hannah. “Don’t play past nine, Hannah.” 

He lightly patted her shoulder before turning back to Pamela. 

“I’ll let you know when I get more information about Lex.” His tone was a little icy now. It was something that Hannah wasn’t used to hearing from him, usually he was warm and kind enough, even to Pamela. “And I’ll be back soon to check on Hannah.” 

Hannah followed him outside as he left, clutching the wrong ukulele under her arm. Something about his leaving, about her ukulele, made an overwhelming sense of desperation wash over her. 

“Duke, wait!” Hannah tugged on his leather jacket to get his attention. He turned back to look at her. “Please. I-I’m not lying. Lexie’s not there. My ukulele it….it’s the wrong color.” 

“What?” 

“Mine’s white.” Hannah glanced at the trees surrounding her house, she thought she saw something moving. They had looked so warm and welcoming earlier. Now, the trees were darkened by angle of the sun, so they looked black and foreboding. If Hannah squinted, she could almost make out people, wooden arms reaching up, ending in twiggy claws. Faces protruding from the bark, frozen in twisted screams. But there was no movement. She looked back at Duke. “I-it’s only black...It’s only black in Nightmare Time.” 

A horrible thought dawned on her. She looked from Duke to the withered forest to her ukulele, then back again. “Is this Nightmare Time too?” 

Duke took a moment to respond. Hannah waited for him to attack her, to morph into some horrible creature from her nightmares, but he just stood there, leaning against the side of his station wagon. He seemed to be pondering something. He glanced down at his cell phone and then turned back to Hannah. 

“I’ll tell you what, Hannah,” he said softly. “I’ve got this friend who I think might be able to help you. I’ll give her a call, and I’ll bring her over soon, okay, darling? I think you’ll like her.” 

“I….okay.” Hannah cast her eyes down. That wasn’t the answer she was hoping for. Maybe Duke couldn’t help her after all. Maybe he just wouldn’t. “Bye, Duke.” 

She turned and went back toward the house before Duke could say anything else, and as she opened her door, she heard his station wagon roar to life. She stared down at the linoleum floor of the living room. 

Then, she felt her mother’s hand grip her arm tightly, and she looked up in alarm. Pamela was seething, her vice grip on Hannah’s bicep causing her to bite back a noise of pain. Pamela’s foot cast thumped on the floor as she dragged Hannah into the kitchen. Hannah clutched her ukulele, despite her urge to throw it as far away as she could. It was all she had now. 

“You couldn’t just be normal!” Pamela burst out, letting go of Hannah’s arm with a jerk. “I couldn’t just have a  _ normal  _ kid who could get  _ anything _ through her fucking head.” 

“L-Lexie’s not in jail,” Hannah said, so softly that she could barely register that she said it. 

Pamela’s face twisted, and Hannah closed her eyes and braced herself for pain, but Pamela just let go of Hannah’s arm with a jerk and a disgusted sigh. 

“I can’t even fucking deal with you right now,” she snapped. “But I don’t wanna hear another goddamn word about how ‘Lexie isn’t in jail’ or ‘Webby said’ bullshit again, and if I hear it I will make you wish you were in the slammer with your sister. Do I make myself clear?” 

Hannah didn’t respond. 

“I  _ said _ , do I make myself clear!?” Pamela jerked Hannah’s chin up so she could see her face. Hannah bit her lip and gripped the false ukulele. 

“Y-yes,” she managed to stammer out. 

“Good.” Pamela pointed Hannah toward her room. “Go to your room and strum your little guitar thingy. I don’t wanna see your face for the rest of the day.” 

Hannah practically darted past her mother and into her room, slamming the door behind her. Her eyes were blurred with tears as she collapsed onto her bed that was way too small. The ukulele, or, rather, the imposter ukulele - the one from Nightmare Time, was still clutched in her fingers. 

With shaky hands, Hannah brought up the instrument and attempted to strum a chord, but found she couldn’t do it. She didn’t even know which ones to play. It all just felt wrong. 

With a cry of frustration, Hannah tossed the ukulele aside and curled up in a fetal position on the bed. She buried her face in a pillow and wrapped a blanket, one she’d stolen right from Lex’s bed, around her shoulders. 

When she would get upset before, Lex and Ethan would be there to comfort her. Hold her close and make hot chocolate and tell her stories and threaten to beat people up until she was laughing herself sick and whatever was bothering her seemed trivial and far away. Then Webby would sing her to sleep and tell her stories of wondrous things that made Hannah realize that her own life was just one small portion of the possibilities, that things would get better. 

Hannah wasn’t quite so sure she believed that anymore, as she sobbed in her tiny room of the rundown trailer. She had been practically alone for weeks now. Ever since Lex and Ethan had disappeared, but this was the first time she’d really felt it. She felt completely alone. She  _ was _ completely alone. 

Hannah felt like she was floating in a bath of ice water, suspended and frozen to the spot. She was unable to move or do anything but scream and cry into her pillow, trying and failing to control her uneven, wheezing breaths. 

In her utter desolance, she forgot about Duke’s promise to call a friend of his. He meant well, sure, but he was a social worker who didn’t believe what she said. How could he, or any friend of his, help Hannah. 

It wasn’t like he had a witch that could help him, did he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider leaving a comment!! I really really enjoy reading and responding to them!! 
> 
> Tumblr: 
> 
> @thegalwhoreallylikesmusicals


	3. Miss Holloway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An introduction to Miss Holloway as she gets a call for help and tries not to fall for Duke Keane. Though it may be too late for that. One more person learns Miss Holloway's name, bringing the total number who know among the living up to two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the slight delay in uploading this chapter, as my life got kind of hectic unexpectedly last week so I didn't write this as fast as I wanted to!! 
> 
> Also, I know I SAID this would be Hannah-centric but I'm weak and not immune to Miss Holloway and Duke flirting and just generally being very in love so there is going to be some of that in this story as well. I also really like Miss Holloway as a character and want to explore her and her dynamic with Duke and Hannah, so I'm gonna do it !! 
> 
> No real TWs for this chapter besides a small reference to a murder. Also lots of flirting.

The phone ringing made Miss Holloway jump. She was still getting used to the sound. Truth be told, she’d only had the thing installed so that Duke could reach her more easily. Miss Holloway hadn’t assumed that when she offered up her help to Hatchetfield proper that she would be needed quite so regularly. She supposed she should’ve known better. So, she kept an old rotary phone running, so Duke could get ahold of her for work-related things. And, more recently, occasional non-work-related things. Miss Holloway had to bite back a smile at the thought of it. 

She paused the workout playing on her antique TV. It only had three channels and a cassette player. She’d gotten some strange looks while getting it installed, but Miss Holloway couldn’t fathom the new technology everyone seemed to have. She’d learned very early on that her particular trade and modern life didn’t mix too well. 

Miss Holloway supposed she didn’t either. 

She tossed a towel over her shoulders and went to answer the phone. She never let a call go unanswered in her house, especially not from him. 

“Hiya, Duke,” she said, taking a sip from the glass of water she’d poured for herself pre-workout. 

“Heya, darling.” Miss Holloway tried to ignore how her heart skipped a beat at the address. She and Duke had been out a few times, and she saw him often enough, but she didn’t dare get her hopes up. She couldn’t afford that. She swallowed and tried to clear her head of the thoughts as Duke continued. “I see you’ve taken your first tenuous steps into the twenty-first century.” 

“How do you figure that?” She asked, leaning against the wall as she took another sip of her water. 

“Well, you knew it was me,” Duke pointed out. He laughed a bit. “Finally caved and got yourself some caller ID, er, Miss Retro?” 

They’d known each other almost a year now, and had been seeing each other for two months, though they didn’t have a label on it yet. Despite that, Duke Keane still sounded  _ nervous _ when he talked to her on the phone. 

“That’s some fancy detective work.” He was wrong. She didn’t, in fact, have a caller ID, but she knew exactly when it was him on the other end of the line. She wasn’t quite sure how, since she didn’t think her particular skill set pertained to knowing when a certain social worker called, but she’d developed an instinct. He didn’t need to know that, though. “I’m impressed.” 

Miss Holloway could almost hear Duke smiling through the phone at the compliment. She laughed a little, then scolded herself and regained her composure. 

“So, um, anyways,” he continued after he regained his composure. “You busy tonight?” 

Miss Holloway was not, in fact, busy. She never really was too busy. It wasn’t like she had friends, apart from Duke, and while her work kept her occupied for some time, her evenings were usually spent flipping through what few TV channels she had. Or worrying about her future. But she tried to push those thoughts to the back of her mind. 

“Douglas Keane,” she replied. “Are you asking me out? It’s a school night.” The banter came easily to her. It didn’t usually, when she was talking to adults, anyways. But, in this and so many other ways, Duke Keane was an anomaly to her. 

“Yeah, and I gotta wash my hair,” Duke said with a laugh, but his tone held some darkness now, a kind of sadness. That made Miss Holloway a little uneasy. “But, well, this isn’t about us.” He took a deep breath as Miss Holloway waited for him to continue. She knew where this was going, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear. “There’s a fourteen-year-old girl named Hannah Foster. I think she might be in need of your, ah, expertise.” 

“Understood,” Miss Holloway said. She tried to shove down her apprehension, but it was hard to ignore the rising feeling in her gut. “Address?” 

“Meet me at the entrance to the trailer park near Witchwood,” Duke replied. “I’ll show you the way from there. Does six work?” 

“Six works fine,” Miss Holloway said. She drummed her fingers lightly on the table. “See ya then, Duke.” 

“See you then.” 

Miss Holloway hung up the phone and immediately hurried up the stairs to her bedroom, her workout forgotten. 

She liked Duke, she liked Duke a lot. Or maybe she felt something stronger for him that had to be ignored. Either way, as much as she enjoyed spending time with him, he hated when he called her for things like this. It was necessary, of course, and most of the time a simple spell or a flick of Miss Holloway’s fingers would be enough to begin to set things right, but it didn’t mean Miss Holloway liked doing it. Magic was dangerous and came with a price, always. 

Miss Holloway’s room held a verifiable mishmash of just about everything. Vintage posters and a map of Europe graced the wall. Her various scarves were draped over her bedposts and the coat rack that stood in the corner of the room. That was also where her denim jacket lived. That had been a present from Duke, for her birthday six months before, and now she practically never took the thing off. Even if it did remind her of worse times, it meant a lot to her. 

She went over to the table at the corner of the room, also piled with clutter. This was clutter of a particular caliber, though. A crystal ball sat at the center of the table, covered with a cloth. Various tarot cards were strewn about, remnants of Miss Holloway’s last client, who wanted her future read. 

Poor Charlotte. Unlucky in love. Miss Holloway had felt guilty when the woman had left in tears, but she never controlled the cards. 

She sighed and moved past the table, willing herself not to look at the cards. She’d vowed to never read her own future again. Never even  _ look  _ at the things unless she was getting paid to for somebody else. Reading the future never went well for anyone. 

She knelt in front of an ornately decorated trunk she’d gotten somewhere she couldn’t quite recall, and opened it. She was aware this was a bit cliche. A witch having a mysterious trunk with a mysterious book hidden beneath stacks of parchment that didn’t say much, if anything at all. Miss Holloway didn’t mind being a bit cliche, though. 

Mostly the paper was there to hide the book Miss Holloway now held in her hands. 

Black with a cracked leather cover, smelling of old parchment with a title inlaid in gold, in a language not quite understood by the majority of humanity. 

Miss Holloway wished she could burn the thing. Send it up in smoke and forget she’d ever touched it. But she knew better than that. The book was one of those necessary evils that had to exist in the world, no matter how much she didn’t like it. 

Now, she had some reading to do. 

\----

Six came sooner than she expected, and she found herself a little late meeting Duke. She’d pored over the book for hours, forgetting to finish her workout or eat lunch, but she pushed those things to the back of her mind as she saw him. 

Per usual, he was dressed casually. His job didn’t require a suit and tie, and Duke liked it that way. He was never one for things like that, for trying to look like more than he was. Jeans and a black t-shirt, a navy blue windbreaker to keep out the chill of the early autumn evening. Simple. Uncomplicated. How he preferred it, and, truthfully, how Miss Holloway preferred it too. 

“You’re late,” he said with a teasing smile. “I was beginning to worry you’d crashed your car.” 

“I know, I really am sorry,” Miss Holloway replied, returning his smile with an apologetic one of her own. She put a hand on the messenger bag on her shoulder, the one that held the black book. “I just...lost track of time today, I guess.”

“No, no, it’s alright,” Duke said, furrowing his brow as he met her eyes. “I’m just glad you made it here okay.”

“Me too.” Miss Holloway smiled softly at him, allowing herself the moment before looking away and clearing her throat. “So, um, tell me about Hannah.” 

“Well, I figure I’ll let you talk with Hannah, first,” Duke said. “And then I’ll explain. But be forewarned, her mother is a little...how to put this nicely? Difficult.” 

Miss Holloway knew immediately that this woman wasn’t someone she wanted to meet. If Duke said something negative about anyone, anyone at all, Miss Holloway didn’t take it lightly. She’d hardly ever heard Duke speak a word against anyone. 

“So, ah, be prepared to do your thing.” He glanced over at her one more time and she nodded in understanding, before Duke rapped on the screen door firmly. 

“Pamela?” He called. 

A moment of silence before the sound of a heavy  _ thump  _ from somewhere within the trailer. Something dragging on the floor.  _ Thump.  _ Silence.  _ Thump _ . growing closer and closer. Almost instinctively, Miss Holloway put a hand on Duke’s arm, prepared to push him back if necessary. 

Then, an annoyed looking woman with a cigarette dangling from her mouth pulled the screen door open. The cast on her foot was caked with dirt and grime from a messy house, and her glasses were crooked on her face. She seemed like she’d been rudely woken up from a nap and she looked shrewdly upon her visitors. Miss Holloway quickly took her hand from Duke’s arm and returned it to her side. 

“What do  _ you _ want?” She snapped at Duke. “You were here this morning.” 

“Hello again, Pamela,” Duke said evenly. He didn’t lose his temper, his expression didn’t even change, though Miss Holloway thought that she could detect a hint of disappointment in his eyes when she took her hand away. “This is Miss. Holloway. She’s the specialist I told you about on the phone, remember? I called this morning after I left. She’s here to help Hannah.”

Miss Holloway didn’t trust herself not to scream at Pamela if she spoke, so she just settled for the nicest smile she could muster, she ran a hand along the collar of her denim jacket, turning it against the wind that had picked up. 

Pamela didn’t even acknowledge her, she just glared over at Duke. “What did I tell you before? Hannah don’t need no specialist!” She took a step closer to the doorway, her broken foot dragging beneath her. “I’m a  _ good mother _ . I’ve never taken my daughter to a doctor and so unless you’ve got a court order, I’m not gonna let some shrinky-dink into my house to poke around in Hannah’s head!” Pamela’s hand jerked up, and for a moment Miss Holloway feared that she’d strike him. Then Miss Holloway really would lose her temper. “So, just beat it.” 

Duke said nothing in response to her tirade. Miss Holloway was glad that when she went on calls, he was always there. He was essentially what was keeping her in check. That being said, Miss Holloway didn’t think she’d ever seen that much anger in his eyes. 

“You’re up,” he said to Miss Holloway, turning to her. 

Miss Holloway smiled. Using magic on other people wasn’t something she was usually fond of, but in this situation, it brought her immense satisfaction. 

“Ms. Foster.” Casually, she brought her fingers up to the doorframe and began to tap. Softly. Rhythmically. Soothingly. “Pamela, was it?” 

Pamela tore her eyes off Duke and moved them over to Miss Holloway. 

“You...you don’t know me.” Her voice still held anger, but it was now shadowed by fear. Miss Holloway hated the satisfaction she felt at that. 

“You’re right,” Miss Holloway shrugged, keeping her tone low and even. The same tone she’d use to read a child to sleep or sing a lullaby. “I don’t. But I do know you haven’t been sleeping very well…” 

Putting Pamela to sleep was almost laughably easy. The alcohol she’d so clearly been drinking only helped Miss Holloway’s efforts and in a matter of moments, Pamela was listlessly slumped against the doorframe. 

“Good,” Miss Holloway said, pointing towards the couch. “Now, go lay down on the couch.” 

Pamela stumbled over to the couch and flopped down, face first and began to snore loudly. Her cast stuck up in the air and Miss Holloway giggled behind her hand. She was  _ very  _ aware of Duke’s eyes on her. 

“Not too bad, huh?” Miss Holloway said, looking at Pamela’s snoring figure. “She won’t wake up for a good, long while.” 

She glanced over at Duke, and met his eyes. He seemed absolutely awestruck. “I think I’m in love with you,” he said. “You know that?” 

Miss Holloway felt heat rush to her cheeks. She had to fight off the high-pitched squeal rising in her throat and resist the urge of every nerve in her body telling her to turn and kiss him right then and there. They were in someone else’s house. It wouldn’t be appropriate and besides, she hadn’t kissed Duke before. It wasn’t like she hadn’t thought about it. 

“Wouldn’t blame you,” she managed, before turning away so he wouldn’t see her blushing. She cleared her throat before she looked around the small trailer. “So, where’s this Hannah you were tellin’ me about?” 

Duke pointed to a narrow door sectioning a small part of the trailer off from the rest of the house. “That’s her room. One she shares with her sister. She’s probably in there.” 

He maneuvered around the various piles of beer cans and furniture that littered the rest of the trailer, and knocked on Hannah’s door. 

“Hannah?” He called, his voice softening. “Hannah, it’s me. I brought the friend I told you about before. Can she come in?” 

“Yeah,” Hannah’s voice replied after a moment. 

Duke nodded and turned to Miss Holloway. “I’ll wait out here. Make sure our friend doesn’t wake up, or maybe run to Beanie’s and grab us some coffee?” He raised an eyebrow at her. It was sort of a joke between them, because Miss Holloway didn’t actually  _ like  _ Beanie’s coffee, but it held a special place in her heart. “I’d go in with you, but I have a feeling that she’d be more willing to talk with you about this than me.” 

“S’why you called me,” Miss Holloway said with a smile. “I’ll catch you up on what she says.” 

As Duke made his way out one door, Miss Holloway made her way into another. She cautiously pushed open the door to Hannah’s room, slowly so as not to startle her. 

Hannah Foster sat on her dilapidated bed, if it could really be called that, hugging her knees. She wore jeans and a t-shirt underneath a yellow-checkered flannel that was much too big for her, that she held around her like a blanket. She looked up at Miss Holloway with wide eyes, the expression in them was one almost of terror. It was one Miss Holloway knew well. 

“H-Hello,” Hannah said, clearly trying to hide a tremor in her voice. Miss Holloway smiled at her, a genuine one this time. She spread her hands slightly and tried to look as not-threatening as she could. She wanted to put Hannah at ease. 

“Hi, Hannah.” Miss Holloway waved at the girl for a moment. “I’m Miss Holloway. I’m a friend of Duke’s and I work with children. I can help them with problems that other adults might not understand….or believe.” She leaned closer to Hannah, as if sharing a secret. “Even good ones like Duke.” 

Hannah snickered a bit. She still wouldn’t meet Miss Holloway’s eyes, so Miss Holloway looked around the room instead. 

She noted the photographs and posters pinned to the wall. Old movies, bands that she hadn’t heard of. Photographs of Hannah and two older teenagers. One with a leather jacket over a white t-shirt, the yellow flannel Hannah now wore was wrapped around his waist. The other was clearly Hannah’s sister, Lex. She looked just like an older version of her, the same nose and hazel eyes staring out at her. They all looked so  _ happy  _ and carefree, standing on a beach somewhere and laughing. Miss Holloway could almost imagine one of the teens telling a stupid joke that sent all three into hysterics just as the camera flashed. 

Miss Holloway was reminded of another family, so similar to the one staring out of the photograph on the wall. One that had laughed and talked just like this before their lives had been torn away from them. 

She swallowed hard and looked away from the photo. She instead set her eyes on a black ukulele that sat in the corner of the room. It sat behind a couple of clothes that had been thrown on the floor, almost deliberately, as if Hannah had wanted to cover the instrument. 

She leaned down and picked it up. “Did your sister give you this, Hannah? It’s very nice.” 

“Yeah,” Hannah said shortly. 

“I used to play music too, you know? A long time ago...” Miss Holloway mused, studying the instrument almost fondly. “But I played guitar.” 

“That’s not mine,” Hannah said. “ _ She  _ switched ‘em.” 

Miss Holloway set the instrument down gingerly, before turning back to Hannah. 

“Who switched them?” She asked softly. “Your mother?” 

A beat. Then two. 

“No.” Hannah’s voice was quiet, almost a whisper. 

Miss Holloway pointed to Hannah’s bed. “Hannah, do you mind if I sit down?” 

Hannah studied Miss Holloway for a moment. Miss Holloway stood there, unmoving, as the little girl met her eyes for the first time. Almost imperceptibly, Hannah nodded. 

“You can.” 

“Thank you,” Miss Holloway said. She moved over to Hannah’s bed, and perched on the edge of the mattress lightly. “So, Hannah. Can you tell me about ‘Nightmare Time?’ When did it start?” 

“Three weeks ago,” Hannah replied, shifting uneasily. “When Webby went away.” 

Miss Holloway’s heart just about stopped. She had been hoping that her psychology knowledge would be enough. That she wouldn’t have to use the book. She wouldn’t have to face this threat, but Hannah’s words confirmed her worst fears, and made her realize that this was inevitable. 

_ Maybe it’s all a coincidence _ . That sounded ridiculous, even to her. 

“Hannah…Is Webby a spider?” She asked slowly. She was almost afraid of the answer that she knew Hannah would give. 

“Sometimes.” Hannah regarded Miss Holloway with suspicion. “Sometimes she’s a girl. She used to sing to me when I couldn’t sleep, and I have to remember the songs, or I’ll forget Webby.” Hannah shut her eyes tightly. “ _ She  _ wants to get rid of Webby….and...and Lexie and Ethan. That’s why she...” Hannah trailed off. 

“What did she do?” Miss Holloway asked softly. “You can trust me, Hannah.” 

“Can I?” Hannah opened her eyes and looked at Miss Holloway. “How do I know. Do you know Webby?” 

“I...I do,” Miss Holloway said slowly. 

“What’s your name, then?” Hannah asked, leaning forward. “If you really know Webby, she told me about you.” 

Miss Holloway hesitated. She didn’t give out her first name often. Names had power, and full names held even more. It was why she never told anyone her first name. No one but Duke knew it. 

“Why don’t you tell me about this witch,” Miss Holloway said. “And then I’ll tell you my name.” 

Hannah was silent for a long time. Miss Holloway was afraid she’d screwed up, big time. That her fear getting the best of her compromised the trust she was trying to build with Hannah. 

“She took Lexie and Ethan,” Hannah finally whispered. “If they’re gone, and Webby’s gone? Then, she can get to me, too.” 

Miss Holloway remembered Duke saying something about Hannah’s older sister being arrested three weeks prior. Some drug charge. Hannah clearly thought, or knew, otherwise. 

“The witch can?” Miss Holloway prompted. “What witch?” 

“The witch in the web.” 

The room seemed to get ten degrees colder when Hannah spoke those words. Miss Holloway involuntarily shivered. Images of a hunched-up monster. A knife. A girl’s terrified scream. Memories she tried to bury deep within her own mind, locked away in her own nightmares, came rushing to the surface. 

“Now I told you my secret,” Hannah said, crossing her arms and snapping Miss Holloway out of it. “ Your turn. What’s your name?” 

Miss Holloway looked over at the young girl, wrapped in flannel and glancing over at the photograph that held her only family. She saw a girl alone, trapped in a problem she didn’t know how to fix, a sister she didn’t know how to save. 

When she looked at Hannah, Miss Holloway was painfully reminded of another girl, pleading with her to help save her family. She had failed her. She wouldn’t fail Hannah too. And maybe, just maybe, helping Hannah would help her too. Maybe saving this little girl, and her family, would silence the monsters howling in the back of Miss Holloway’s mind. 

There was no two ways about it. Miss Holloway and Hannah needed one another to survive this. Hannah realized that, Miss Holloway knew she did. And so did she. 

“I don’t like telling people what my name is,” Miss Holloway admitted to Hannah. Hannah looked at her with an expression that could only be described as  _ no shit _ . “But I’m glad you trusted me. And I trust you too.” 

She took a deep breath. 

“Most people call me Miss Holloway,” she said. “But you can call me Anne.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we've got a first name for Miss Holloway!! Just a note that in my canon, her first name is Anne (credits to Kat @just-a-side-kick) for coming up with that one. I wish I could say it's got some deep meaning behind it, but really it's just so I can have one Duke Keane refer to her as "Annie." Going forward, I will probably be using both Anne and Miss Holloway interchangeably in narration. 
> 
> Anyways, thanks so much for reading!! Please leave a comment if you enjoyed!! 
> 
> Tumblr for subpar content: 
> 
> @thegalwhoreallylikesmusicals


	4. Running out of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah makes a friend in a mysterious place, Anne Holloway makes a promise to Duke, and the stakes are raised in the fight to save Lex and Ethan from Nightmare Time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!! Just a quick note that I've changed my ao3 username!! It's now memoriesaremine, like my tumblr blog. Y'all probably already knew that but I figured I'd put it here too. 
> 
> This chapter is pretty short, and essentially a setup for the real good stuff coming up!! Plus, it's an introduction to our newest character...a mysterious little girl. 
> 
> TWs: nothing strong, but be advised there is another of Hannah's nightmares as well as a description of a panic attack and a very short reference to violence 
> 
> Stay safe!

Miss Holloway left Hannah’s room when Duke returned with coffee. She promised Hannah she’d return afterwards to talk, but it was clear that Hannah needed a moment’s break, and, truth be told, Anne did too. Her mind and heart were racing and the bag on her shoulder felt as though it was getting heavier by the moment. 

“You okay?” Duke asked, startling Anne out of her thoughts as he met her at the door. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

_ More like a witch _ . Anne didn’t say that part out loud. She just smiled up at Duke as he handed her the coffee. “I’m fine,” she assured him. “Thanks for the coffee.” 

“Anytime,” Duke said, returning her smile and making her heart skip a beat. “So, uh, do you wanna go outside for a minute and maybe...talk while we drink these?” 

“Sounds like a good plan,” Anne said. “Don’t really wanna be in here with all’a her snorin’.” She jerked her head towards Pamela, who was still slumped on the couch, her loud snores practically rattling the trailer. “Can barely hear myself think.” 

“Tell me about it.” Duke laughed, glancing over at her. “I still can’t figure out how you did that.” 

“Well, I can’t go telling you all my secrets.” The words slipped off Miss Holloway’s tongue with ease. It was what she told Duke every time he asked about her abilities, or simply just marveled at her. The funny thing was, if she thought that telling him wouldn’t put him in danger, she’d have told him months ago. 

That pesky voice in the back of her head reminded her that even just by being around her right now, Duke was probably in danger. She tried to push the voice from her mind as she swallowed the lump in her throat. 

Duke leaned against the rickety old fence outside, one hand wrapped around his cup of coffee and one resting lightly on the top of a fencepost. Anne joined him, taking up a similar position. She wrapped both of her hands around the cup of coffee, allowing the warmth to seep through her fingertips and bring her momentary comfort. 

“So,” Duke asked after a moment. “What did you and Hannah talk about?” 

“We talked about a few things,” Miss Holloway replied thoughtfully, taking a sip of her coffee. “‘Bout what happened to Lex and Ethan, Webby, her ukulele….Nightmare Time.” Maybe it was her imagination, but the air seemed to get a few degrees chillier when she spoke the words. She shivered a bit. 

“Nightmare Time,” Duke echoed softly. “That’s what she calls it. She started talking about it around the time that Lex and Ethan, well...” He sighed. 

“What do you know about what happened to Lex and Ethan?” Anne chose her next words carefully. She didn’t believe Lex and Ethan had been arrested for drug charges. Not even a little bit. Not anymore. It was just a matter of making Duke believe it while still concealing the full truth. 

“They were picked up, ‘bout three weeks ago,” Duke said. “Possession with intent to distribute. Police busted their deal. They said they’d contact Pamela about a trial, but they haven’t called yet. I went to where they’re being held to try to talk to them, but, ah…” His fingers drummed on the fencepost as he looked towards the Witchwood. “Lex doesn’t want to see me, apparently.” 

“I don’t think that’s true, Duke,” Anne said softly. 

“Last time I went, according to the warden, she said to, in her words, ‘fuck off.’” Duke took another sip of his coffee, recoiling a bit as if he didn’t quite like the taste anymore. “I know she doesn’t trust me, but...I just want to help them.” 

“I know.” Anne reached out and put a comforting hand on his. “You are helping, Duke. I know you are.” 

“I hope so.” Duke looked back at her. “I know all of this has been hard on Hannah. She likes Ethan a lot, and, well, she and Lex were close. Lex was more of a mother to her than…” Duke jerked his head back towards the trailer. “Y’know. Hannah started talking about this Nightmare Time stuff when she disappeared.” 

“When Webby went away,” Miss Holloway agreed. She followed Duke’s gaze back to the house. 

“Is it some kind of trauma, you think, keeping the kid up at night?” Duke asked. “This could be her response.” Even he sounded like he didn’t quite believe what he was saying. Like Nightmare Time was becoming more and more real to him. 

“I don’t think this one is like the others, Duke,” Miss Holloway said softly. She cast her thoughts back to Hannah, pleading with her to rescue Lex and Ethan. She tried to keep the thought of the  _ others _ out, but they were there too, whispering to her. “I-I’ve seen this kind of thing before. If I’m right, well, Hannah is in some very bad trouble. I think Lex and Ethan are too.” 

“Annie.” Duke looked over at her. The earnest, almost intense look in his eyes was startling enough for Anne to ignore the fact that Duke referred to her as ‘Annie.’ His calling her that always got her attention. 

Anne knew Duke cared about Lex and Hannah, as he cared about all of the kids he was responsible for, but it was clear that he felt more of a connection to Hannah than he did to most. 

“Can you help her?” He asked softly. “Please, tell me the truth.”

“It’s not going to be easy,” Anne admitted, taking a deep breath. Without realizing it, she linked her fingers with Duke’s, more of a promise than a romantic gesture. “But Duke, I promise you I’m gonna try. I’m going to try to help all of them.” 

\-----------

Hannah could feel the nightmares calling to her after her conversation with Miss Holloway. She strummed her ukulele, trying as hard as she could to fight them off, to remember the songs that Webby had taught her. It was to no avail. The thoughts and visions reached out like hands. The long, spindly arms that she’d seen on the blackened trees, pulling her under as she struggled. She was a drowning victim, slowly being suffocated by her own thoughts. 

_ At first, Hannah saw images she’d seen before, flashing in front of her in black and white like images on an old movie set. Lex and Ethan stumbling through the tree people’s forest, shielding their faces from the wind, eyes wide with shock and fear; the witch reading from a big, black book, creating a storm that Hannah knew no one could escape. She whimpered as she heard a scream. A final scream, before everything faded to black.  _

_ She looked around in wild confusion. This wasn’t something she was familiar with. Inky darkness stretched every which way, making it impossible for Hannah to tell left from right, up from down from sideways. Although the place had no discernable temperature, Hannah hugged her arms and shivered. Fear made everything colder.  _

_ “H-Hello?” She called cautiously. “Someone? A-anyone?”  _

_“Hello?” A voice called out in return. Hannah’s eyes widened._ _That was Ethan’s voice. It was strangled and desperate, but it was_ there. _“Someone? Anyone?”_

_ Hannah spun around and ran towards where she thought the voice was coming from. She hurdled through the darkness as fast as her legs would take her, neither running nor floating across the inky space. All she could focus on was Ethan’s voice and the relief that was coursing through her.  _

_ “Ethan!” She cried. “Ethan!”  _

_ “Lex?” Ethan’s voice yelled. Hannah still couldn’t see him. His voice wasn’t getting any closer, nor was it getting farther away. “Lex! Where are you? Lex!” _

_ “Ethan!” Hannah stopped to catch her breath, shouting louder than she ever had in her life. “Ethan, I’m here! It’s me! It’s Hannah!”  _

_ Ethan didn’t reply to her, and Hannah slowly realized that he couldn’t hear what she was saying. She could only hear him. She was here to listen. She just stood there as Ethan cried out for Lex, panic rising within her once again. If Lex and Ethan had been separated, that was bad. That was really bad.  _

_ “Lex.” Ethan’s voice was full of relief, which caused Hannah to breathe out too. The sound of his running feet had stopped, and Hannah could hear him panting between words. _

_ This wasn’t quite as bad as the others. Hearing Ethan sound anything other than scared was something that helped alleviate her own fears. For the first time in days, Hannah almost smiled a real, genuine smile. Maybe Lex and Ethan could escape Nightmare Time. Maybe she wouldn’t need to save them.  _

_“Lex, thank_ God. _Jesus Christ, babe, you can’t run off on me like that._ _I thought something had happened to-” Ethan stopped short. “Lex?” His voice was more apprehensive now, on edge._

_ All of Hannah’s relief disappeared immediately.  _

_ “Lex? Lex, no!” Ethan’s voice was strained and panicked. His breathing was quickening again. Terror rather than exhaustion causing him to exhale. “Lex! Lex! No! Stop!”  _

_ Hannah heard a deafening crash. The sound of something heavy hitting solid ground. And then nothing at all. Ethan was completely silent. Lex was completely silent. She was all alone.  _

_ Hannah fell to her knees and wailed, the hurricane of emotions that was stirring inside her coming out in one giant tidal wave. She screamed until her throat was raw and she could feel the tears leaking from her eyes hit the back of her hands on what passed for the ground.  _

_ “W-Webby,” Hannah sobbed. “Webby, please, help. I-I can’t-I can’t do this.”  _

_ Of course, Webby didn’t respond. Hannah sat and curled into a ball, hugging her knees and hiding her head. She could barely breathe. The silence of this place was deafening, the nothingness of it all roaring in Hannah’s ears and reminding her exactly how helpless she was.  _

_ “Hannah?” A young girl’s voice filled the silence of the void. Hannah peeked up from her knees, looking for the owner of the voice. A light tap on her shoulder made her turn, and stare into the eyes of a young girl.  _

_ Her face was indistinct. Hannah couldn’t tell what color her hair or eyes were, or even how old she was. All Hannah knew was it was a girl. Not Webby. Definitely not Webby. Her very essence seemed to shift with each moment, falling apart and reforming according to no pattern in particular.  _

_ “W-who are you?” Hannah managed, wiping her eyes with the back of her shirtsleeve.  _

_ “Your friend.” It was hard to see, but the girl might have smiled at her. Something reassuring. Light in the darkness of this place. “I made it so you didn’t have to see. Took me a long time, but I did it.” She sounded sort of proud of herself.  _

_ “W-w-what happened?” Hannah forced herself to look into the girl’s shifting face. “W-where are Lexie and E?”  _

_ “Listen to me, Hannah,” the girl instructed, ignoring her question. Her voice floated through space and echoed in Hannah’s ears. “Don’t give up. You  _ can’t _ give up.”  _

_ “H-how?” Hannah asked softly.  _

_ “Well, I dunno,” the girl said. “But you can save them, Hannah. But you’re…” the girl’s voice began to fade in and out. “You’re running out of time. And so am I. You’re gonna wake up soon.” The girl’s flickering image began to disintegrate, the light she emitted beginning to fade as darkness closed in again.  _

_ “Wait!” Hannah yelled. “W-what’s your name? Who are you? How do I save Lexie and E.”  _

_ The girl said something indistinguishable, something garbled that Hannah couldn’t quite make out. Then the image faded completely and she was gone.  _

Hannah shot awake in her bed. She was laying half-off of it. She hadn't intended to fall asleep, but lately, especially without her ukulele, the nightmares were the ones dictating what happened to her. She had lost control without Webby. 

She sat up, furiously scrubbing at her eyes to get rid of leftover tears as she mulled over the events of her dream. The last words from the young girl finally reached her ears, registering in her mind. 

Hannah Foster now knew three things: Nightmare Time was bigger than even she thought it was, she was running out of time to save Lex and Ethan, and the final words that the young girl had said were ' _Miss Holloway.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Please leave a comment if you enjoyed!! 
> 
> I would just like to note that the mysterious little girl is not Webby!! She and Webby, though related, are their own characters and will each have a distinct role to play in this. ;)
> 
> Anyways, thanks again for reading this chapter!! 
> 
> I have a new tumblr blog name now, so here's my obligatory shameless self-promo: 
> 
> @memories-are-mine 
> 
> (yes it is from Witch's lullaby)


	5. Into the Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah and Miss Holloway venture into Nightmare Time, for better or for worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs for this chapter: Mentions of violence, descriptions of a minor panic attack
> 
> Also as a sidenote, the tree-person Noel in this chapter has NO relation to the Noel of Santa Claus is going to High School fame, but is actually Kat (@shipsthatcouldshowyouthestars) oc who I threw in here just for fun and as a fun hint to the countless AUs we've written with these characters
> 
> Happy reading!!

Hannah didn’t know what else to do, so she went to find Duke and Miss Holloway. She was still a little uneasy around Anne. Sure, she knew her name, and that was something, but the girl’s message had made her even more wary. 

Webby had never mentioned Anne Holloway. Not even once. Hannah thought she knew all Webby’s friends, knew who she could trust. It turned out she didn’t know what she knew anymore. That thought settled over her mind like a thundercloud signalling a storm, looming and lingering as she stood in the doorway of her trailer, watching Duke and Anne drink coffee and exchange soft words, their hands barely brushing on the fencepost. 

She stood a little awkwardly in the doorway for a moment. She felt odd interrupting them. There was also an unexplainable comfort in watching them just  _ exist  _ together for that fleeting moment. Memories tugged at her heartstrings of Lex and Ethan in that same spot, watching cigarette smoke scatter in the evening sky. 

“Hannah.” Miss Holloway somehow knew she was behind them, and she and Duke turned towards her. She tilted her head a bit, scrutinizing Hannah’s expression. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“Had a dream.” Hannah wrung her hands absentmindedly. Every ridge on the metal step upon which she stood was sharp, almost cutting into her eyes as she stared down. “N-no more time.” 

Miss Holloway’s expression darkened and she nodded resolutely. “Why don’t we head back inside, Hannah. I think you and I need to talk.” Her voice was soft, weighed down by something Hannah recognized as sorrow. 

The gravity in her voice filled Hannah’s ears, and she turned without realizing and walked back into the trailer, beelining for her room. On any other day, she’d creep past her mother on the couch. Lex had drilled it into her at any moment, Pamela could wake up or lash out. Walk on eggshells. Tonight, Hannah barely noticed Pamela’s snores. 

She went back into her and Lex’s room and shut the door behind her. For a moment, she waited by the door to see if her mother would storm in after her, listening for the telltale  _ thump  _ of the cast echoing against the floor like a drumbeat signalling the battle ahead. 

Instead, she heard Duke and Anne, talking in soft tones. Their voices were warm with affection and concern, and once again, Hannah felt a twinge in her chest. 

“Stay out here, alright?” Miss Holloway said. “Make sure that _our_ _friend_ doesn’t come in? Or anyone else?” 

Hannah suspected that Miss Holloway might’ve had other reasons beside monitoring Pamela for asking Duke to stay out of the room. 

“Yeah, I’ll stay out here,” Duke promised. There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. “Be careful in there, Annie. Both of you. Whatever it is you’re going to do, please be careful. Try to keep Hannah safe.” 

“I will,” Anne promised. “You be careful too.” 

“I will,” Duke said. 

Hannah retreated back to the bed as the door opened. She wondered if an adult in her life had ever sounded that concerned and loving when speaking Hannah’s name. Probably not, except for Webby. She felt better knowing Duke was watching the door, away from whatever fate awaited Hannah and Miss Holloway within these tiny metal walls. 

Miss Holloway entered without much ceremony, shutting the door firmly behind them and locking it. For the first fleeting moment, Hannah caught the expression on her face, though she was trying to hide it. She looked a cross between fearful and resigned. A condemned woman, accepting whatever came next wouldn’t be good. That scared Hannah too. 

But then she saw Hannah looking and quickly neutralized her expression, even managing a smile for her client. 

“I have a plan, Hannah,” she said, her voice filled with forced confidence. “We’re gonna get Lex and Ethan back, but you’re going to have to trust me, okay? Can you do that, Hannah?” 

Hannah wasn’t quite sure she could, but she would say anything, she would  _ do  _ anything, if it meant Lex and Ethan would come home safely. Even trust the strange woman in the denim jacket with her life. 

“I can.” Hannah’s voice was barely above a whisper. Miss Holloway nodded, satisfied. 

“I’m going to turn the lights off and light a candle, okay?” She looked at Hannah for her approval. It was very clear that Anne picked up on her apprehension, and was doing her best to make her comfortable. Lex and Ethan did that sometimes, Ethan especially, when he was trying to win Hannah over. So did Duke. Hannah wondered if Miss Holloway had picked it up from him. 

Hannah tried to force herself to stop analyzing Miss Holloway and nodded her approval. She had to stay focused. Webby needed her. Lex and Ethan needed her. 

The darkness that descended on the room seemed to want to linger there, clinging to the furniture, to Hannah’s skin, to Anne’s jacket. It gave her an eerie, ghostlike glow in the light of her red wax candle. Hannah wished it wasn’t red. She tried not to look at the hot wax dripping down the sides of the candle as Miss Holloway set it down on the table. 

“Can I tell you a secret, Hannah?” She asked, sitting on the edge of Hannah’s bed. 

“Uh, sure?” Hannah shifted uncomfortably in the candlelight as Miss Holloway sat down. “What is it?” 

“I’m a witch too,” Miss Holloway said, in a tone that resembled a young girl sharing a secret at a birthday party. It was warm, childlike and inviting, and Hannah couldn’t help being comforted by it. “Which means that I can help you fight your witch, and get Lex and Ethan back.” 

Something about Miss Holloway’s tone set Hannah on edge. It was almost  _ too  _ soothing, too sweet. She didn’t know if that was just nerves. 

“Are you a good witch?” She found herself asking. There were good witches and bad witches. That much she knew. Webby was a good witch. 

Anne looked up at Hannah and smiled. “Most of the time.” She removed the satchel from her shoulder and unbuckled it. “Hannah, there’s something else I’ve got to ask you.” From her bag, she produced a small parcel, wrapped in layers of cloth. 

Looking at it, Hannah’s heart began to swell with fear. Darkness radiated off of it, almost visible as Miss Holloway produced a black book with a tattered leather cover. 

Hannah screamed. Without thinking, she tried to jump off the bed and bolt for the door. Find Duke. Get away from that book. Far away. Miss Holloway’s hand caught her arm and stopped her as she struggled. 

“Hannah, Hannah, it’s okay,” Miss Holloway said. 

“T-that book,” Hannah gasped, looking with horror at the torn cover. “ _ She  _ used that book. T-to take L-Lexie and Ethan.” Her gaze moved up to Miss Holloway. Was this all a trap? A trick to get Hannah alone so she could end up like Ethan and Lex? “Why do you have that?” 

“Hannah, I’m sorry I scared you, but I’m not going to hurt you,” Miss Holloway said, putting her free hand up in surrender. “There’s more than one of these, and it’s my job to keep this one safe.” 

“That book is  _ bad _ !” Hannah snapped. Lex would scold her if she knew Hannah was using that tone, but Lex wasn’t here right now. Because of that book, she was trapped in Nightmare Time. 

“The Lords in Black,” Miss Holloway said, holding up a hand to stop Hannah’s tirade. “Do you know who they are, Hannah?” 

Hannah swallowed the bile in her throat and nodded. “Webby’s brothers.” 

“That’s right,” Miss Holloway gave a nod of her own. “They have followers. One of them did this. Invaded your mind and took Lex and Ethan, but we’ll get her out. Together.”

“The book will make it worse,” Hannah protested. Her resolve was crumbling as Miss Holloway opened the old, torn pages. 

“Hannah, as you grow up,” Miss Holloway said softly. “You learn that things aren’t as black and white as they seem. Sometimes, you have to do bad things to do even better things. It’s scary, and it hurts sometimes, but in the end, it’s what we have to do.” 

“Still has a price,” Hannah replied firmly. “It  _ all _ has a price.” 

“I know,” Miss Holloway said. “And I’ll pay it.” She set the book down to look at Hannah. “You know what you have to do, don’t you?” 

“N-no,” Hannah pleaded. She had hoped there’d be another way.  _ Any  _ other way. But deep down, she’d known this was always inevitable. 

“You have to, for Lex and Ethan,” Miss Holloway said. “But you’re not doing this alone. I’m going with you.” 

For Lex and Ethan. Hannah would do this for them. She’d do  _ anything  _ for them, if it meant they’d return home safe and sound. Even go into Nightmare Time with Miss Holloway. 

Hannah nodded slowly. “I will.” 

“Good, good.” Miss Holloway gestured for Hannah to lie down on the bed, and Hannah obeyed. She shut her eyes tightly, her own heartbeat in her ears. A slow, rhythmic tapping on the cover of the black book drummed in her mind, coupled with Miss Holloway’s hypnotic whispers. 

“Relax, Hannah.” The voice echoed around her head. “Let me guide you through. Focus on my voice….you’re drifting down, down, down….” 

Hannah felt herself go weightless. A familiar feeling. Every time she entered Nightmare Time she was like this. She braced herself for the horrors, the visions that plagued her in this place, the sound of Lex and Ethan being tortured, the witch laughing. 

Instead, there was silence. 

Tentatively, Hannah opened her eyes and found herself in the black void she’d seen in her previous dream. Just like before, she stood in the inky expanse with no trouble, a cross between walking and floating. She looked to her left to see Miss Holloway beside her. 

“Welcome to the In-Between, Hannah,” Miss Holloway said softly. “We’re not quite in Nightmare Time yet. Nothing can harm us here.” 

She extended her hand to Hannah, who hesitated. 

“I know this is scary,” Miss Holloway said sympathetically, lowering her hand. “Believe me, I do. But you have to remember something, and keep remembering it.” Her tone turned serious. “You are the one in control here. This is  _ your  _ mind. No one else’s. No matter what they say, or what happens,  _ you  _ hold the power.” She swallowed hard. “Remember that, alright? Promise me you will.” Miss Holloway’s eyes were full of something like regret, and it made Hannah soften a bit. 

“I-I promise,” She said with a nod. 

“Good.” Miss Holloway smiled gently at her. “You’re a very special young girl, Hannah. A very powerful one. Okay?”

“Okay.” 

When Miss Holloway extended her hand this time, Hannah took it. It was a small comfort in this place, even if she didn’t fully trust the woman beside her. The way Miss Holloway’s smile widened with genuine joy didn’t hurt either. 

“Which way do we go, Hannah? Where’s the witch?” She asked. “Picture it in your mind. I don’t know the way. Just close your eyes and point.” 

Hannah closed her eyes and pointed, letting her instincts guide her. “That way.” 

“Good,” Miss Holloway said approvingly. “Let’s go.” 

The forest in Hannah’s mind was one she’d seen many times before, even prior to the nightmares. It was the same forest she’d walked through with Webby at night, bare feet on soft moss as she listened to the woman tell stories and sing old tunes from times long gone. Before, this place had been alive with vibrant color, everywhere you looked bright and inviting. The tree people, rooted to the ground, would smile at her and whisper advice as she passed. 

Now, the color had been stolen. Leeched out. There were still remnants that clung: edges of leaves tinted green, the sky  _ almost  _ a shade of light blue, particles of color clinging to the grass under their feet. 

The tree-people didn’t smile anymore, either. Once soft and kind, their expressions were twisted. Frozen in pained exhaustion as they strained against some kind of invisible force. Roots planted in darkened dirt that once was a rich shade of brown. Black, spindly branches twisted above their heads, blocking out what little light there was in the gray, mottled sky. 

“In the woods,” Hannah said. “That’s where we gotta go.” 

Miss Holloway nodded, glancing up. A thick, smoky fog was rolling over the trees, coming right towards them. 

“The witch,” Hannah said, tugging on Miss Holloway’s hand to urge her forward. “That’s her magic. I’ve seen it.”

“So have I.” 

Not five steps into the woods, Hannah tripped. The roots of one of the trees seemed to move directly where she was walking. She yelped and spilled onto the ground, Miss Holloway right behind her. 

“Ow,” Hannah muttered, looking up at the tree person with irritation. 

Her eyes locked on a girl with jeans and a sweater that had once been lavender purple, curly hair framing her face and brushing her shoulders. She was a recent addition to the forest, not quite so firmly rooted as the others. It was obvious she was straining as badly as the others, but she tried her best to hide it. 

“Don’t go, Hannah,” she pleaded. “Too dangerous, we-we can’t hold her!” She took a pained, gasping breath. “S-she’ll come for you.” 

Hannah reached out and touched the girl’s shoulder, slowly hardening, turning into wood. Seeing her like this made Hannah sad. It was just in this place, after all, that this was the fate that had befallen her. 

“Have to, Ellie,” she said quietly. “The witch took Lex and Ethan. No other way.” She looked down at the roots still blocking the path. “I’ll come back. Please let us through.” 

The girl sighed in resignation, and the roots moved away for them to pass. Hannah nodded once, swallowed hard, and kept walking into the forest. Miss Holloway took her hand again. 

“You know her?” She asked Hannah softly. “Who was she?” 

“A friend,” Hannah replied quietly. She didn’t know Noel. Not really, but flashes in her head sometimes indicated that if things had been different, she would’ve known her very well. “She’s my friend...from somewhere else. Someplace she, uh, isn’t a tree.”

“I see,” Miss Holloway said. “How did she get here?” She looked around at the vast forest of people, bodies contorted and expressions grimacing. “How did they  _ all  _ get here?” 

“They’re all like me, at least a little,” Hannah said quietly. “T-the Hatchetmen put them here, whether they liked it or not. Their roots trapped the witch before she escaped.” She looked around at the countless faces that made up the wood. “I might be here someday. For someone else.” The thought of standing here frozen, devoid of all color, life and freedom made her shiver. Miss Holloway gave her hand a comforting squeeze. 

The clothing of the people was slowly getting older, morphing from the modern era to the nineties and eighties. Clothing that more matched what Miss Holloway wore. Miss Holloway seemed to notice the change too. 

“These clothes are...older.” She tilted her head at a young girl wearing cuffed jeans and an oversized band t-shirt. Miss Holloway stood in front of the tree so that Hannah couldn’t read the gray writing, but she seemed to be looking at the logo on the shirt with curiosity. 

“They get older the deeper you go,” Hannah said. She tried to move around Miss Holloway to see the shirt, but she blocked Hannah’s path, maybe unintentionally, maybe not. “Casey was planted in 1986.” The girl’s name came to her, just as all the others did. Webby knew every name in this part of the forest, and, when she needed to, so did Hannah. 

Casey came to life slowly at the sound of Hannah’s voice. Her eyes fixed on the woman in front of her and her expression shifted to something almost resembling awe. 

“Can I have your autograph?” She asked Anne. 

Anne’s expression dropped and she turned and walked off quickly, Hannah pulled along behind her. Hannah tried to get a look at Casey’s shirt, and thought she saw someone who looked exactly like Miss Holloway emblazoned on the front, a microphone in her hand. 

“It was somewhere else, another place,” Anne said quietly, once they were stopped far away from Casey’s tree: back in the 1950s now. She seemed to be anticipating Hannah’s question. “Somewhere that I didn’t quite belong.” 

“Oh.” 

Miss Holloway turned and managed a smile for her. “It’s a long time in the past now.” She took a deep breath. “Where to now, Hannah. You lead the way.” 

“Deeper.” Hannah’s instincts answered for her. “Much deeper. Oldest part, and the deepest part. That’s where they are.” 

Miss Holloway forged ahead without another word. Hannah didn’t complain as she followed. As they walked, she began to run through the words of the songs that Webby had taught her in her head. Every step a beat. 

_ The witch in the web is scary _

_ But only in your mind… _

What was in Hannah’s mind seemed to be becoming more and more real. Webby hadn’t given her instructions on that. 

She was so absorbed in the song and her thoughts that she hadn’t realized they’d reached the deeper part of the forest until Miss Holloway stopped. Hannah almost walked right into her before she realized. 

The clothes were from the 1800s now, mostly peasants dressed in mossy rags, almost entirely assimilated to their trees. It took a long time, it seemed. 

“This is as far as I’ve gone,” Hannah swallowed. Her voice cut through the eerie silence and almost made her ears hurt. “I don’t know the names of these ones. Neither does Webby. I don’t think they do either.” She looked around her. The fog was so thick now that she could only see the tree immediately next to her. She could barely even see Miss Holloway, and Miss Holloway was right in front of her. “We’re close. The witch is close.” 

“Let’s keep going, then.” 

Hannah had no plan for fighting the witch. She really hoped Miss Holloway did. After all, what could she do in here? Miss Holloway had told her she was powerful, but she didn’t know what those powers were or how to use them. She didn’t have Webby to tell her, either. 

The witch’s house billowed smoke in the distance, the ramshackle hut emitting a harsh, white light. Lightning flashed and thunder roared above them, centered on the house and whipping violently out across Hannah’s dreamscape. Hannah stopped in her tracks. 

Ahead of them, the fog began to clear. Almost deliberately, at just the right time for Hannah to look down and stop dead in her tracks. 

“Hannah?” Miss Holloway looked where Hannah stared and her face dropped. 

Lying there, on the ground a few feet ahead of them, two objects had been carefully placed. Two objects that Hannah recognized. 

One blue backpack, covered in various pins and buttons, worn and tattered from use. One black leather jacket, also worn, but in good shape. The owner made sure to take care of it. It was Ethan’s only jacket, after all. 

The witch had put them here, to scare Hannah. To make Hannah let her guard down. And it worked like a charm. 

Hannah screamed out and fell to her knees, and the trees screamed with her, roots surging and twisting as the people shuddered, letting out guttural screams that tangled with Hannah’s. 

“Hannah, keep moving!” Miss Holloway’s voice cut through the screams, barely audible. “You can do this! We have to keep moving!” 

“I-I can’t.” Hannah reached out for the jacket, for the backpack, but only grasped a root that had gotten in her way. She started to pull against Miss Holloway’s grip on her. She had to get the jacket. The backpack. They seemed to dance around her vision, just out of reach. 

“Hannah, don’t let go!” Miss Holloway tried desperately to retain her grip on Hannah, but she was slipping away. “Hannah, you can’t lose me! Hannah, don’t!” 

But Hannah couldn’t hear her anymore. The jacket and backpack had opened the floodgate of memories, so all she could see was Lex and Ethan huddled against a wall, defenseless. All she could hear was the screaming of a thousand voices behind her, the wind howling louder, faster. 

The force of the gale ripped Hannah and Miss Holloway apart. Hannah screamed as she was tossed about like a rag doll, reaching out for the jacket and backpack, which were swirling around in the vortex, just out of her reach. 

Among those who were crying out, Hannah thought she heard two familiar voices for just a moment. But they were drowned out by Miss Holloway, screaming her name. 

“Hannah!” She screamed. “ _ Hannah _ !” 

But Hannah was already gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment if you enjoyed!! 
> 
> Sorry for the delay in this upload, but to quote a tiktok, my mental health has not been very poggers, champ, so I had to take a bit of a break from writing + the fall semester just ended, so these last few weeks have been...a lot lol but I am gonna try to upload chapters once a week, with the next one out next Sunday! 
> 
> Shameless self-promo: 
> 
> Tumblr: @memories-are-mine


	6. The First Trial of Hannah Foster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah faces her first trial at the hands of Willabella Muckwab, and it doesn't go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay for this chapter everyone!! Thanks for reading this anyways, and I promise next chapter will be longer and have more lore lol 
> 
> TWs: VIOLENCE, ATTEMPTED EXECUTION, DESCRIPTIONS OF A PANIC ATTACK, essentially this is my retelling of Hannah's trial/execution, so any warnings that you'd use for that, apply them here.

Hannah swirled in the tornado, weightless, the backpack and jacket hovering tantalizingly close, but not quite close enough. She reached out for them desperately, but as she somersaulted and spun through nightmares, the jacket and backpack were sucked into the storm and out of her sight. She wailed in despair. 

Her mind swirled with terror and thoughts of her failure. She now had nothing left of Lex and Ethan. Not even her ukulele or stuffed cat. Those hadn’t come with her. She had nothing and no one. Completely alone. 

Until she wasn’t. 

Hannah’s world stabilized and she collapsed to the creaky wooden floor of a building she didn’t recognize, landing hard on her right arm. Black spots danced in her eyes and her head spun from the force she was thrown around with. She’d never seen this place before. Never been here. 

Voices above her registered in her ears, people muttering, shifting. The sound of cloth rubbing against cloth was too loud right now, and Hannah swallowed and pressed her fingers to her temples until they hurt.

“P-please,” she whispered to the people above her. “Please help. M-my family-” 

Hannah wasn’t sure they’d heard her, or even if she’d said it out loud at all. She hadn’t yet looked around her, at anything except the rotting floorboards on which she lay. 

The muttering above her grew louder, angrier, people starting to shout. Hannah whimpered as they closed in on her. Their mutters turned into the hissing of snakes, the roaring of lions, the laughter of the witch. 

The loud bang of a gavel rang through the room and the crowd went silent. Hannah finally dared pick her head up to look around. She swallowed back a scream as she met the eyes of the people who surrounded her in a tight ring, venom in their eyes. Torches and pitchforks were clenched in their hands like a scene from one of the horror movies Lex and Ethan would watch, trying to scare each other while Hannah peeked through her fingers. That memory slipped away as fast as it came into her head, overshadowed by the gravity of her current situation. 

Hatchetfield Courthouse, the year 1824. The clothes and the gavel gave it away. 

“Get her up,” someone snapped, and a dozen pairs of hands reached down to yank Hannah to her feet. 

Hannah struggled, but to absolutely no avail. The jacket and backpack had done the trick. They’d completely subdued her. Her own head was now in complete control, and Hannah was just the victim. Passive and powerless. 

“L-lemme go!” She pleaded. “P-please lemme go!” 

The crowd only jeered at her as they dragged her to the judge’s bench, pushing her to her knees and gathering behind her so that she couldn’t run. Someone grabbed her hair and yanked her head back so she was looking the judge in the eye. She yelped in pain as the judge pointed a spindly finger at her, his gloved hand reminding her of the branches of the Witchwood. His face was hooded so Hannah couldn’t make it out. 

“You,” he said menacingly. “Willabella Muckwab. You vile creature! You who hath danced with demons! You who hath penned the abominable tome with the blood of our children! You have been found guilty of the crime of witchcraft. For it, you shall hang from the neck until you are dead.” 

Hannah opened her mouth to plead, to explain. Say  _ anything _ . But the words caught in her throat and all that came out was a pitiful noise: half scream, half sob. A ruckus of cruel laughter went up as the villagers pounced on Hannah. She screamed. The scene changed. 

Now they stood in what would become the very center of the Witchwood, where the witch’s house stood now. Where Lex and Ethan were now. 

Hannah thought she heard Lex’s screams amid the jeers and things being thrown at her as she was forced toward a platform. A platform that held a noose, hanging from a branch of the tallest tree in the clearing. A figure wearing a black hood stood ready for her. 

“Please!” Hannah begged. “P-please! Stop!” 

Her cries fell on deaf ears, and she was forced onto the platform. Her hands were bound behind her back and she thrashed and twisted, but all her struggling only seemed to make them tighter. 

Hannah thought she heard Lex cry out again. She thought she heard her sister scream her name. 

“L-Lex?” She sobbed out as the executioner took her arm. “L-Lexie? Lexie, help!” 

But there was no Lex to be found. Hannah looked around, but couldn’t pick her out of the sea of faces. 

“Kill the witch!” the crowd chanted. “Kill the witch!” 

“ _ Hannah _ !” At the edge of the crowd  _ was  _ someone that Hannah recognized. Miss Holloway’s image was flickering in and out of the scene as she whipped her head around wildly. “ _ Hannah _ !” She didn’t seem to be able to spot Hannah, despite her being right on the platform. 

Hannah tried to call out to her, but the noose tightened around her neck and she gagged, the rope burning. Instinctively, she reached up to claw at her neck, but her hands were still tied, rendering her helpless. 

“Hannah!” Miss Holloway’s voice cracked with despair as the judge spoke again. “H-hannah!” 

“Never shall she plague this land again! This land which we paid for with blood! Her immortal soul shall rot here. And the roots of the wood we plant shall ensnare her, forever more. Caught in a web, paid for with our sacrifice.”

Another face caught Hannah’s eye in the crowd. A figure, more light than person, also stood watching the scene. Hannah couldn’t quite make out the expression on its face, but she could almost detect sympathy. It looked like the girl who’d come to Hannah in the In-Between, the one who’d said she was Hannah’s friend. 

There was a moment of calm, where the noise of the execution faded into the background. The noose around her neck no longer hurt, and a small amount of peace washed over her. 

The girl glided over and touched Miss Holloway on the arm, pointing towards Hannah with a shimmering finger. Miss Holloway gasped, and then she became solid, collapsing to her knees before regaining her footing, and taking in the horror before her. 

The noise resumed, the rope tightened, and all of Hannah’s terror returned. She began to thrash against her bonds again, the grip on her arm. 

“Hannah, you have to take control!” She called out, trying to claw her way through the crowd. “T-they have the power! They’ll kill you!” 

“The innocent must suffer!” The judge’s voice began to ring out, saying his final words. 

“She’s put you in your place!” 

“The guilty must be punished!” 

“You aren’t the witch!” 

“It takes blood to be a man!” 

“Lex and Ethan need you!” 

“Die now!” 

Miss Holloway’s words were lost on Hannah. All she could feel was time slowing down as the judge raised his hand to signal the executioner, the platform falling from under her feet. All she could do was close her eyes as the rope went taut. 

Then she went weightless again. She didn’t hear her neck snap. Didn’t choke until there was no more breath in her. She only felt herself spinning, spinning, spinning, again, spinning and falling. 

And then she hit solid ground, and there was silence. Hannah trembled there for a moment, eyes still squeezed tightly shut. She was dead. She had to be dead. 

But she didn’t  _ feel  _ dead. Some part of her, some instinct told her that if she was actually dead, she’d know it. 

“Hannah?” 

Hannah dared open her eyes, and found herself staring into those of Anne Holloway, who was breathing heavily, holding onto Hannah by her flannel. 

Hannah’s arms were free now, and she sat up, palms digging into the old, dusty carpet they’d landed on. She tried to look around, but Miss Holloway spoke her name again.

“ _ Hannah _ .” Miss Holloway’s voice carried more insistence now. She sounded almost  _ angry  _ with Hannah. “Look at me.” 

Hannah did, forcing herself to meet Anne’s eyes once again. The expression in them was sharp, like Pamela’s whenever Lex talked back or Hannah stepped out of line. She didn’t like that. But the expression in Miss Holloway’s was undercut by two other things, two emotions on her face that Hannah would  _ never  _ associate with her mother: concern, and deep, overwhelming fear. 

“Don’t  _ ever  _ do that again.” Miss Holloway’s voice was trembling a little. “Understand?” 

“I-I’m sorry,” Hannah said, trying to catch her breath. She could still feel the noose around her neck, threatening to choke her. “I-I got scared.” 

“I know.” Miss Holloway’s expression softened. “But...don’t next time. Are you alright?” 

Hannah nodded as Miss Holloway stood, offering Hannah a hand to help her to her feet. 

“Where are we?” Hannah stuck close to her companion this time. She didn’t want to risk another execution. “Miss Holloway?” 

“I had to get you out of there,” Miss Holloway said softly, as neon lights flickered to life around them, dimly illuminating the space. “So...I did the only thing I could.” She gestured around them to a dimly-lit, abandoned theatre. One that Hannah almost recognized. “I brought you to  _ my  _ Nightmare Time.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Hannah's gonna have some trauma from that! 
> 
> Again, really sorry for the delay on this chapter! The next one will come out faster I promise (i know i keep saying that but i mean it this time) my life will be calmer after this week too, so I'll have more time to devote to this project 
> 
> Anyways, next week, we get a little more of Miss Holloway's backstory and an adventure into the depths of her nightmares


	7. The Starlight Theatre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah braves Miss Holloway's Nightmare Theatre, and learns some startling new information about her guide, from a very probably unreliable source.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi welcome back (or welcome if you're new) !! Sorry this took forever LMAO the release of Nightmare Time on Youtube really kicked me back into gear to write this thing but here's a lot of description and a little lore for this universe to make up for it 
> 
> TWS: mentions of death, blood, gore, and references to the violence that takes place in Black Friday

Miss Holloway’s Nightmare Time was no forest of twisted faces and attempted hangings. It wasn’t wholly black and white either. The neon signs flickered in yellow and blue and pink, giving off the vibe of a sort of seedy bar like the ones that Pamela brought her to sometimes until Lex put a firm stop to it. A strange look for a theater. 

There was no seating in this nightmarish Starlight. Aside from narrow isles of rotting wood floors under ripped carpet, there was darkness, just complete, utter darkness. Hannah didn’t think she’d seen anything that black before. 

Ahead of them was the stage. Creaky old steps led up to the rounded stage, which, unlike the rest of it, looked new, clean and swept. Everything, that is, except for the very center. 

A pile of black ash sat, motionless and undisturbed, as if it had been there since the beginning of time and would be there till the end. That was unsettling in and of itself, but the skull with the shiny black knife through it made the stage downright terrifying. Hannah stopped in her tracks. 

“Miss Holloway?” she asked softly. “W-whose head is that?” 

“No one you need to worry about,” Miss Holloway replied, though her voice held a bit of an edge. “Not anymore.” 

“O-okay,” Hannah said with a nod. Miss Holloway put a hand on her shoulder for reassurance, and pointed up to the stage, beyond the skull, the dust and the knife.

“See that Exit sign?” She asked Hannah. Hannah nodded, following her finger to the red neon sign, flickering in and out of vision. “Through there, we can get back to your mind.” She gently pressed on Hannah’s back, guiding her forward. “We should hurry, I don’t want to stay here any longer than we have to. There are bad things here.”

As soon as she said it, as if on cue, a crash from the shadows rang through Hannah’s ears, her grip tightening on Miss Holloway’s hand. A writhing, slimy mass emerged from the shadows, behind Hannah and Miss Holloway. 

Hannah froze in shock as she stared at the thing. Or _things_? 

Whatever it was had once been human. Hannah could see faces. Three faces, in fact. Tufts of hair flew in every direction, clinging to the three sunken, missshapen heads. Six bony arms protruded from the hulking mass of flesh and dark clothing of what must’ve been three beautiful girls once. Now, they were reduced to dragging themselves across the floor, slowly and deliberately, toward Hannah and Miss Holloway. 

“Come on,” Miss Holloway said, turning Hannah away from the thing and beginning to walk her toward the stage. “Forget about it, and it will go away.” 

If Hannah tilted her head a little, one of the faces looked like that of her sister. 

“Who are they?” Hannah asked. “Or...who were they?” 

Miss Holloway hesitated. “Three girls that I couldn’t save.” 

Those words sent a chill down Hannah’s spine. “Were they...anything like me?” 

“No,” Miss Holloway said quickly, though her voice had a certain choked quality to it. Hannah could tell when grown-ups were holding something back, but what Miss Holloway’s secret was, she didn’t know. Anne Holloway probably had a lot of secrets. “Nothing like you.” 

The sounds of the Thing-that-had-Once-Been-Three-Girls faded behind them as they began their trek to the stage. It was longer than it seemed, the carpeted aisle seeming to double in length for every step they took.

Miss Holloway was on edge. Hannah hadn’t thought to associate this woman with the emotion of fear. Miss Holloway could make mistakes, maybe, worry a bit. But she wasn’t afraid, not like Hannah was in her Nightmare Time. 

Now, though, Miss Holloway was wringing her hands as they walked, her eyes darting back and forth as if at any point some terrifying monster would jump out to kill them. Which, to be fair, it might have. Hannah supposed that if there was a place to get scared, it was within your worst nightmares and darkest thoughts. 

“ _ Hannah _ ,” A voice hissed in her head. Or she thought it was in her head, at first. 

“Hannah…” Another voice echoed it, closer. Louder. Hannah now realized the voices were coming from the darkness from which the Thing-that-Had-Once-Been-a-Girl had emerged. Hannah looked, but didn’t see anyone. 

“Don’t stop.” Miss Holloway’s voice was tight and insistent. “Keep walking.” She put a hand on Hannah’s back and pushed her along, a little too forcefully, and Hannah almost stumbled and fell. Anne caught her. 

“I’m sorry,” She said. “But we need to keep moving.” 

As they walked, the voices only grew louder and louder, pounding in Hannah’s ears, like the tree people, but less well-intentioned. The voices were full of malice. 

“ _ Hannah… _ ” A voice echoed from far off in one direction. 

“ _ Over here, my little Star _ .” Another voice came from Hannah’s other side. She fought not to look. She could feel the tingle of Miss Holloway’s Nightmare Time digging into her mind, deep into her hopes, fears and heartaches to pull out just what would rattle her the most. 

“What’s shakin’, Banana?” 

Hannah’s heart stopped. The voice had been an exact mimicry of Ethan Green’s. She hadn’t heard it in almost a month now, she realized. Not really, anyway, besides his screams for help that haunted her nightmares. She missed him so much. She missed him and Lex so  _ so  _ much that this cheap imitation of her older brother almost made her break. 

“Hannah.” Miss Holloway’s voice made her realize that she’d stopped. Her old reassuring tone was back, as if hearing Ethan’s voice had given her something to focus on. Remind her of her goal.

“W-why are they talking to me?” Hannah whimpered. “Isn’t this  _ your  _ Nightmare Time?” 

“I don’t listen to them anymore,” Anne said softly. “I know it’s hard, but try to ignore them. As best you can.” 

Hannah did try. She tried her best. Harder than she’d tried at anything before, harder than even trying to remember the songs from  _ Webby _ . She couldn't snap again. Not like she had when she’d seen the jacket and the backpack in her own Nightmare Time. She wouldn’t get lucky twice. 

She tried to let these monsters using her family’s voice to taunt her make her angry. She took a tiny pinprick of it, of the rage she felt, and tried to expand it in her chest. Every step she took, every time Ethan or Lex’s voice would call out to her, she let her anger grow. They didn’t get to take her family away. 

The stage started getting closer and closer. Hannah lifted her chin up, gritting her teeth. She felt good. She felt  _ powerful _ . She felt sort of like how Miss Holloway must feel. Like she could conquer anything. Save anyone she wanted. 

All of the voices abruptly cut out, leaving a moment of deafening silence. Hannah stopped walking, tilting her head in conclusion. 

“Well, well, well.” The voice echoed through the room, bouncing from wall to wall, burrowing in Hannah’s ears and worming its way into her brain. “We just keep running into each other, don’t we, Hannah.” 

A flood of memories slammed into Hannah. Memories that were hers, but not quite. She was flooded with images. Images of people tearing each other apart in a seedy-looking toy store, with the colors too bright and faces too angry. She saw herself facing a woman she didn’t recognize, as Lex’s backpack was ripped off her shoulders. 

She saw Lex being choked by someone Hannah couldn’t quite see, the life slowly fading from her eyes as she weakly fought her captor. And she saw Ethan on a carpeted floor, being beaten and kicked, his face drawn tight with pain and fear. 

Whatever foolish bravado she’d pretended she had was washed away with the tide of thoughts that washed through her mind, stripping her of her strength, her anger, and just leaving her just a frightened little girl all alone. The voices reminded her as much. 

“M-Miss Holloway?” Hannah choked out. “M-Miss Holloway!” 

There was no response, and Hannah opened her eyes. At some point during the flood, she’d ended up on the stage of this nightmarish Starlight. She now stared out at the darkness, writing and moving. A ghostly audience to her suffering. 

She almost stepped in the pile of ash and the rotting skeleton with the knife when she turned around. She yelped and jumped back, but was jolted to a stop by an invisible force that pushed her back. 

She looked down at her feet and saw a symbol carved in the wood. An odd symbol, but one that looked familiar. It was the same symbol as on the cover of the black book. A pentagram made up the main design. Five black dots on the edges. Hannah didn’t even want to think about what it might mean. 

She found that she couldn’t move beyond the symbol. Sound didn’t travel. It just echoed from within this clear little chamber. Miss Holloway was nowhere in sight. 

Some compulsion made Hannah bend down and pick up the knife. Pulling it from the skull wasn’t easy, but she wanted a weapon. Maybe it was magic. It could cut her out of here. Nevermind that she had no idea how to use a knife, and she probably wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone with it even if she did. 

As soon as she wrenched the blade free, the symbol began to glow a sickly, radioactive green. The same color as the eyes of that doll in those memories that weren’t quite hers. Hannah yelped and backed up, but there was nowhere to go. 

The dust began to swirl around the skeleton, and to her horror, it began to rise as the symbol glowed brighter and brighter. Hannah gripped her knife as the light became blinding and a high-pitched hum reverberated throughout the room. 

When Hannah could see again, she wasn’t alone. A man stood before her, reaching up his newly reanimated arm to comb back his greasy black hair and straighten the collar on his denim shirt. 

Miss Holloway wore the denim on denim look much better than this man did. 

The man’s eyes settled on Hannah and he sneered. 

“How ya doin’ there, Hannah?” 

Hannah didn’t stick around to talk to him. She was no longer constrained to the symbol now, and she began to flee towards the edge of the stage, but she realized it was no longer there. It was replaced with a heavy, bloodred curtain that now hung around Hannah and the man. It had descended from the ceiling and now was anchored to the floor. Hannah was trapped. 

Images were etched into the back of the fabric. They made Hannah’s blood run cold as she studied them. It was more a tapestry than a curtain, she realized. A tapestry depicting nightmares worse than she could ever dream up. 

One image in particular caught her eye. A young girl who looked a lot like her, facing down the man in denim who now stood behind Hannah Foster. This girl wasn’t Hannah, though. She was different. Hannah’s eyes followed the image to its conclusion, and had to hold back the vomit rising in her throat. 

An image of a large mansion, crystal-white except for the blood that now stained its walls. It was the scene of a massacre. No less than five people. All young. All with their whole lives ahead of them. The young girl lay motionless, front and center, a final scream frozen on her lips, the blade of the black knife Hannah now held buried in her gut. 

The denim-clad man tutted in sympathy behind her. “Oh, poor Hannah,” he said. 

“How do you know my name?” Hannah turned around to face him. 

“Oh, don’t you worry about that,” he said, taking a step closer. Hannah brandished the knife at him, and he stopped, putting his hands up. “Miss Holloway didn’t tell you, did she? ‘Bout those kids? That girl?” He scratched behind his head. “Can’t say I blame her.” 

“What do you mean?” Hannah asked. “They-they aren’t like me? Miss Holloway said that the girls she couldn’t save weren’t like me.”  “Oh, Hannah, Hannah, Hannah.” His laughter echoed across the stage, worming into her ears like Wiggly’s had. He stepped closer, closer, closer. Hannah’s knife seemed to grow heavier and heavier in her hands as the man reached her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “That girl, there? She is  _ exactly  _ like you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! please leave a comment if you enjoyed it! Again sorry about this taking forever lol 
> 
> Tumblr: 
> 
> @memories-are-mine

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it!! Please please leave a comment if you read, because it means a lot to me <3 
> 
> Tumblr for shameless self-promo: 
> 
> @thegalwhoreallylikesmusicals


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